Mourning the loss of volumes of knowledge

Sunday

Mar 25, 2012 at 3:15 AM

Something happened a couple of weeks ago that is already regarded as a turning point in history. Encyclopaedia Britannica ended its print run after 244 years and will now be available only as a Web-based product. No computer or digital reader, no encyclopedia.

In the March 14 edition of the Los Angeles Times newspaper, writer Robert Channick noted the death of Britannica's print edition as "marking the end of one of the longest chapters in publishing history."

Channick described it this way: "It's a technological evolution, a cultural benchmark and, certainly, a moment in history."

I am sure there are many out there who would say, "So what." And on some level, I acknowledge that it makes sense to go digital where information is nearly instantaneous.

But, I feel wistful, too. I'm 59 years old and grew up loving encyclopedias.

My favorite set of reference books was not Britannica. I was a World Book disciple. I loved the way the pages looked, the glossy finish on each one, the photographs and the knowledge that I could look up anything I was curious about. Before I wander further into nostalgia, I want to be clear. World Book still has a print edition. It may be the only major one left, now that Britannica has left that market.

My love affair with World Book started in grammar school. My family did not have a lot of extras and we didn't own a set of World Book encyclopedias. Instead, we had a tiny mahogany bookcase in the hallway of our tiny ranch house. There was a set of navy blue encyclopedias with embossing on the spine of each book. But the encyclopedias were from the olden days. The pages were yellowed pulp, not the glossy finish of the World Book pages. There were no pictures and the articles were of poor quality. I have no idea where these books came from or how old they were, but they were inadequate. If you looked up a science topic, like the periodic table, for instance, there would be nothing written about it.

I complained to my mother and father about the encyclopedias just about every day, but either lack of money or lack of interest kept them from replacing the old blue volumes. So I did my homework at my best friend's house. Donna's family was more well off and had the encyclopedias of my dreams — a brand new set of World Books and the bonus annual encyclopedia update the company would send every year just in case something big happened — like an amazing scientific discovery — and it wasn't in your original set.

I was in heaven with those books. I even loved the smell of the pages.

I remember working on a big science project with Donna. I think we were in seventh or eighth grade. We used the World Book to look up information about volcanoes and then we actually built one in a casserole dish. We mixed up a batch of clay using flour, water and salt and then added food coloring to show the different layers of rock. Then we embedded a soup can into our casserole mountain.

At the science fair Donna and I poured some type of chemical into the soup can. I don't recall exactly what it was, but when we lighted it, it started spewing. There were sparks and a few flames and some make-believe volcanic lava flowing out of the soup can.

Our display was very dramatic and all of our friends asked us to light the volcano over and over again until all the chemicals were gone.

No one cared about the truly complicated engine one of the boys had built by hand, or the potato another kid was using as a battery. Everyone loved the volcano and I felt like a combination of Marilyn Monroe and Madame Curie. And, I owed it all to World Book.

I never did get my own set of World Book encyclopedias. Instead, my mother bought me a set of kiddie encyclopedias from the grocery store. They were running a promotion at Dan's Star Market and you could get one volume a week for a cheap price. They certainly weren't up to World Book standards, but I was grateful anyway. The books were made very much like Golden Books for children, just bigger. Each one had a colorful high gloss cover. Inside the books were filled with amazing full-color pictures on every page. And best of all, these encyclopedias were all about science. There were no other topics covered. I read about Gregor Mendel, the father of genetics, Charles Darwin and the theory of evolution and the human circulatory system.

I can remember poring over those books all summer long and how excited I got whenever my mother went to the grocery store.

Now, I suppose children pore over their iPads where the colors are even more brilliant and they can look up anything that piques their interests.

In that sense, I suppose the passing of the print edition of Britannica is nothing to mourn.

Still, I love the power of holding those volumes in my hands and the memories of building a volcano that made me a junior high superstar.

Mary Pat Rowland is the managing editor of Foster's. Her e-mail address is mprowland@fosters.com.

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